Grab Bag
by Na'hiel
Summary: A group of entirely unrelated story fragments. See individual fragments for warnings and pairings. Please note that these fragments will likely not be expanded into anything else. Fragments may be het, slash, or gen.
1. Reward

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: None, past Harry/Ginny.

Reward

It was nice to go out without being recognized by every person on every street corner. And why should anybody recognize him? Here he was nobody. He was just the nice man in the house on the corner who occasionally stepped out and offered a quick herbal remedy to an ailing elderly person. He wasn't anything special at all.

He wasn't the notorious killer of the Dark Lord. He wasn't in line to become the next Head Auror, and then the next Minister of Magic. He wasn't a sitting member of the Wizengamot. He wasn't a Peer of the Magical Realm. He wasn't even really Harry Potter anymore. He was just… He was just Harry, and it was so wonderful.

It was a different type of magic than he'd ever thought he would have the chance to experience. It wasn't for twenty long, miserable years in the wizarding world that he realized that he would be an entirely unknown face in the Muggle realms. Ginny hadn't been willing to follow him, but the divorce had been amicable. He was happy, now, happier than he'd been in years.

Nobody bothered him for autographs, nobody pestered him for pictures, nobody interrogated him for interviews. It was the sort of peace he'd always hoped to earn, and now that he had it he wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even for his old friends, who still nagged him every now and then about meeting in Diagon Alley instead of at the pub three blocks down.

And that was fine, really. They could nag all they wanted, but Harry wasn't going to change his mind. He didn't even carry a wand anymore. The most magic he did was with potions, and even that was rare. He was happy being a nothing and a no one. And it wasn't like he had to work or anything. The Potter and Black family fortunes sustained him quite nicely.

This, this was the reward he'd earned all those years ago. And he couldn't regret it for a minute.


	2. Help

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Thoughts of self-harm, mentioned character death.

Pairings: None.

Help

The mirror shattered.

It looked so pretty, the shards of glass, as they fell to the ground with tinkling sounds like music. He shivered as he stared at the jagged edges of the mirror, staring down at them, his hands itching to reach out. To grab the pieces of glass. To use them, until he couldn't use them anymore. His hands were almost begging.

Ron turned away from the broken mirror and left the restroom. The House Elves would clean up the mess. And he couldn't. He couldn't be around those pieces of mirror without wanting to do something terrible. He had to walk away before he hurt himself. And people would ask questions if he had to go to the Hospital Wing with cuts again.

It had happened too many times this year. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The war was over . they'd won. Harry had won. He hadn't even lost that many people, not relative to what Harry had lost. Harry had lost everyone. He'd only lost a brother. How could he compare his losses to Harry's? He couldn't.

And Harry wasn't tempted to go at his wrists with a piece of glass. Just what the hell was wrong with him, anyway? He wasn't this pathetic. He really, really wasn't. He needed to stop. He needed to be stronger than this. He needed…. he needed help.

"You need help, Weasley," a quiet voice said, and Ron whirled around. Malfoy was standing beside him, staring at him, blood dripping from his own wrist. "I should know. So do I."

Ron tried not to think about the fact that Malfoy had died during the war.


	3. Scandal

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: Harry/Fleur

Scandal

"We can't be doing this," Harry breathed, even as he leaned up and stole another kiss. They were intoxicating and wonderful and magical and how could he not steal a kiss when the opportunity was presented to him? No person could. And if they tried, well, they had no idea what they were missing.

"It would be quite the scandal," she agreed, and returned the quick kiss with a much longer one. "You are, after all, a little too young for me."

Harry laughed, and it was almost a hysterical giggle. He hated that he couldn't do this with her in public. There would be such a terrible backlash, and he couldn't risk it. He'd already taken one blow too many to his public reputation. He was pretty sure that it wouldn't be able to withstand this at all.

"I don't care," he said suddenly, a feeling of reckless insanity taking over. "I don't care about any of that. Let's go the ball together. It isn't like there are rules against this, after all. What would they do? Disqualify me? I'd welcome it. I didn't put my name in the damn goblet anyway!" Since when had he cared about his public reputation, anyway?

She laughed, a light and warm and loving sound. "Oh, Harry, I don't want you to be disqualified. I find that I'm quite enjoying our time in competition." Fleur pressed him back against the wall, then, and kissed him quite fiercely indeed. "And I find that the competition brings a little bit more fire to our relationship."

Harry wasn't entirely sure that he agreed with that, but he was more than willing to let Fleur do whatever she wished with him.


	4. Nerves

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Warnings: None.

Pairings: Ron/Draco, Hermione/Fred/George and Harry/Lucius/Narcissa mentioned.

Nerves

This was stupid. This was so monumentally stupid that Ron couldn't believe how stupid he was being. Because this was really stupid.

"Stop it," he said, and leaned forward to tap Ron on the nose. "You're focusing too much and making yourself all nervous."

"I should be nervous!" Ron hissed. This was the most stupid thing that he'd ever done in his life. They should have eloped. They really, really should have eloped. The reception was going to be an utter disaster. Really. This was a terrible idea.

"You shouldn't be. My family will behave, and your family will behave, and everything will work just fine," his intended said, a serene smile on his face.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "You've met my brothers, right?" he asked. "Have you ever known Fred and George to behave?"

"No. But I've complete confidence in the ability of their wife to keep them in line," Draco said cheerfully. "Hermione won't take any flack from either of them today, or so she's promised. And in exchange for keeping them out of trouble, she's going to get an exclusive look at the Malfoy library for as many weekends as she'd like, which means that you know that she'll do it."

Ron's eyes widened. "Did you bribe one of my best friends?" he asked, startled. Why hadn't that occurred to him?

"I bribed them both," Draco said, still cheerful. "Did you think I wouldn't? Hermione's handling your brothers, and by extension, she's handling the rest of your family. Harry, on the other hand, has my parents wrapped around his little finger and has sworn to throw the most outrageous fit should either one of them look like they intend on misbehaving. It'll all work out just fine."

Ron stared at his soon to be husband, amazed. He'd known Draco was a snake, but not entirely how much. "I love you," he said, unable to keep the words from passing his lips.

Draco smiled smugly at him. "I know," he said cheerfully, and then it was time for the ceremony to begin.


	5. The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Character death.

Pairings: None.

The End

_Merlin save us_, Harry thought grimly as he drew his wand. They didn't have many options other than to stand their ground and fight, and he knew that it wasn't going to go well. There were too many Death Eaters, and it was just him, Ron, and Hermione. They were surrounded on all sides, and they would have to stand their ground. They didn't have a choice.

"We can handle this," Hermione breathed, even as she unleashed a blasting curse that tore into one of the first Death Eaters. He practically exploded, and she immediately targeted her next target and hit them with a cutting curse that sliced them in two.

Ron was building wards quickly and carefully, his wand moving through the intricate patterns that might just keep them alive to fight another day. He'd learned quickly; they all had. But Ron had learned these the fastest, and as such it was his job to build the wards in a situation like this. They would keep the Unforgivables from being fired, and everything else could be blocked or dodged if you were fast enough.

"Wards are up," he said, and the fight took off as all three of them exploded into blurs of ducking and dodging and casting in a parody of a deadly dance. To watch this from the outside would be breathtaking, but there would hopefully be no survivors other than themselves. And there was nobody left to watch.

They'd been fighting like this for years it seemed, and maybe it had been years. It was hard to tell, these days, with the days all bleeding together. The world was in ruins around them. They stood in what had once upon a time been New York City, seeking what may or may not have been the last of the Dark Lord' horcruxes. Once they had the cup, the damned cup, they could move on the Dark Lord himself. But they'd been looking for years. Literally, Harry thought, as he spun out of the way of a curse.

They might never find it. They might die trying. But they would keep trying, because they didn't have any other options. The world was in ruins around them, but they had to keep going. They were the only ones left, the Potterwatch having long since stopped broadcasting and the Order of the Phoenix crumbling without a proper leader, but they would keep going. Keep fighting. They didn't have any other options.

He heard a scream and whirled, and Hermione went down. Her head was severed from her body, and she was dead. Harry froze in shock and horror, and that was all that it took. He watched as Ron went down, the red of his hair darkening viciously and quickly as the one side of his head caved in from a bludgeoning curse. And then the world went black for him, as well.


	6. Lily's Eyes

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: None.

Lily's Eyes

Severus tried his hardest not to look at the boy's eyes. They were Lily's eyes, soft and warm and green, and right now they were filling with tears.

Severus could easily hate himself for what he'd done to the child. The little boy clearly hadn't known a thing about potions, probably didn't know much at all about the wizarding world, and he'd just attacked him. He hated himself for doing it. But he had a job to do. A part to play. He didn't want to, but he had to. He would have to be in place for when the Dark Lord rose a second time.

And he would come back. Which meant that Harry had to get used to adversity. He had to understand what it was like to be hated unconditionally. And Severus was the one unlucky enough to be picked to play that role. He didn't want to do it. He hated to do it. But the children had to learn.

It was after class, after he'd broken several new hearts, that he realized that the little one hadn't left. Little Harry Potter was still sitting at his desk, waiting patiently to be noticed. "What?" Severus barked.

"You knew my mother, sir," Harry said, his voice tiny and frightened and trembling.

"What?" Severus asked, a little bit more gentle. He couldn't quite bring himself to be so angry, not when possibly talking about LIly. He'd loved her so much… he hadn't deserved her then, and he didn't deserve her now.

"You knew my mother, sir. That's what Hagrid said. I'd like to get to know you if I could. I know that you don't like me, that I'm horrible with potions, but I'd still like to try."

Severus' eyes closed. Albus would have to find somebody new to teach the child about hatred. He couldn't.

"I would like that, Harry," he said gently, and watched the little one's face light up.


	7. Triad

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: Harry/Ron/Hermione

Note: This one's a little different. There are four little fragments in here because they're all connected.

Hermione

Hermione closed her eyes and thought. She was good at thinking. Incredibly good at thinking, in fact. They called her the most clever witch of her age. She'd worked hard to earn that title, and she would continue working hard to earn that title. She was a good person, a moral person, and she was a clever person too.

So she should be able to think of a solution to this mess. It was a logic puzzle, really. Her emotions needed to stay the hell out of this, thank you very much. She needed to make a choice, and her choice would affect them all. But it should be a choice driven by logic and fact and sanity, not ruled by the wild emotions that screamed and begged and roared inside of her.

Logic would save them from this, not emotion. She could use her cleverness to be logical. She absolutely could.

Fact one. Ron was a good man. He was poor, he was a little bit rude, and a bit of a coward, and occasionally jealous, but he was a good man. He would make a good husband. He was already a good friend.

Fact two. Harry was also a good man. A very good man. He had money, he had fame, and he had an insanely huge hero complex that would undoubtedly drive him into an early grave without people to check him from doing stupid things. He was rash, mischievous, and a little bit lazy academically. He was also, she was pretty sure, hiding something about his past with the Dursleys. LIkely some form of abuse, and she wasn't entirely sure that she was equipped to handle dealing with that.

Fact three. Both of the boys were academically lazy. She couldn't hold that against either of them. They both didn't necessarily see the importance of studying until the test was directly upon them. But she could work with that. Laziness was something that they could be trained out of, or so she thought.

Fact four. She loved them both, so very much that it hurt. She adored them. She would have been glad to spend the rest of her days with either one of them. With both of them, if she'd thought for a moment that it would work. But it wouldn't.

Which lead her to Fact Five. She had to make a decision. Triangles were fun for a once in a while kind of thing, but they didn't actually work in real life. There were too many emotions, too many… too much. It would never work. Ron was too jealous. Harry would be too uncertain of himself. And she was too damn logical for this.

What was she supposed to do? She'd never counted on falling in love. She'd never wanted this. She still didn't want it.

"Hermione?" they called together, and she broke.

Harry

"You can't go!" he screamed.

Ron didn't listen. Of course Ron wouldn't listen. He believed that leaving was the best choice. Harry knew exactly what was going through Ron's head, and he didn't know what to do about it. He only knew that he couldn't let Ron go. Somehow, Harry knew that if Ron walked out that door right now, he would never see him again. Ron would be gone forever, and Harry would lose his best friend.

"You can't," he continued, and lunged forward to grab Ron's hand.

Ron shook him off. "Why not?" he asked bitterly. "Why can't I go? I'm tired, Harry. I'm tired of fighting with the two of you. I'm tired of running. I'm just… I"m tired. Of not being enough. I'll never be enough. Of.. everything, actually. I'm just tired."

Harry broke. He cried, and he wasn't at all ashamed of his tears. If his tears might sway Ron from leaving, then he'd cry them all. He couldn't stop himself. "Please, Ron," he begged. "I need you. You're my best friend. You're our best friend. We'll die without you, Ron. We need you."

Hermione came out of the tent, then, joining them in the cold and the wet and the muck, in only her nightgown. She looked like she was freezing. She also didn't seem to feel it at all. "Please, Ron," she said, and her voice was light and gentle and warm and accepting, and Harry knew.

The idea hit him like a ton of bricks. "Ron," he breathed, because he'd missed it. How could he miss it? How could he not have realized that they were all three wrestling with the same thing? Because they were. He loved Ron and Hermione, and Ron loved Hermione and him, and Hermione loved them both.

And there was nothing wrong with that. He'd thought there was, had been so sure that there was something wrong with him for loving both of them, but it was okay. It was absolutely okay. "You don't have to go," he said quietly, certainly.

The Dursleys would never have approved of this, and maybe that was a good thing, that they would have hated him for this. He certainly hated them most of the time, after all.

"I have to go." Ron's voice was broken and shaking and he was crying.

Harry pulled on his arm, and Ron came into his arms easily, without protest. "You don't have to go," Harry said quietly, assuredly. "Because we love you, Ron. We both do. And we know that you love us, too. So you don't need to leave."

Ron

Ron had never imagined. He'd never believed that this would be his life.

He'd known, of course, that making friends with the Boy Who Lived would do something to him. How could it not? Harry Potter was so famous in their world, and it was so clear that he'd had no idea of the power his name held. And Ron had adored him for that. For not knowing or caring about his fame, even as he'd hated him a little bit for it. It was easy to not care about standing out when you couldn't help but do so.

But he'd grown. He'd gotten over it, and he'd gained the two most important people in the world because of his growth. Harry and Hermione had been everything to him. They'd been his friends, his family, his… everything. His first crushes, even. And he'd been pretty sure that they would end up together, and he was happy for them. Really, he'd been happy for them.

But they hadn't let that happen. They'd accepted his happiness, and then they'd done something he absolutely hadn't expected. They'd refused to let him leave that cold night during their Horcrux hunt. They'd come after him, both of them, and Harry had told him the truth, that they loved him as much as he loved them.

And how could he leave them while knowing that? He couldn't. He loved them too much to leave knowing that he would be hurting them as much as he was hurting. He didn't want them to ever feel like he'd felt. So he'd stayed, not knowing where things were going, and he'd never regretted it. Never.

And now… now, with the war over and everything settled down and Fred buried and… and now it was time to be happy. He could be happy now. They could be happy now.

And how could he not be happy, on this the day of their Bonding Ceremony? He was pretty sure that he'd never been happier in his life.

Damsel in Distress

Hermione Granger was no man's damsel in distress, and perhaps these idiots should realize that. She understood why she'd been kidnapped, of course. She was Harry Potter's Bonded, and Harry Potter was the Defeater of the Dark Lord. He was a hell of a person to try and bait like that, especially considering that they were both Bonded to Ron Weasley, who was Head Auror.

So yes. If they were trying to bait two very powerful men into coming here, well, they'd chosen a good victim. But Hermione Granger was no victim. Yes, she was a researcher and a politician now, but most people tended to forget that she'd been with Harry when he'd defeated the Dark Lord. She'd been by his side, with Ron, and she'd fought just as much as the two of them.

So if these idiots were expecting her to just sit quietly in her rope bindings and wait for Harry or Ron or both to come and get her, well, they were going to get exactly what they deserved. Sometimes, she mused as she wriggled out of her bonds, she wondered if the Dark Magic these idiots all used rotted the brain. Or maybe it was magic in general that seemed to eliminate the need for common sense, which meant that most wizards didn't have it at all.

She got herself free and walked across the empty room to her wand, which really, they'd left in the same room as her? Idiots. Just because she was tied up, and not very well mind you, they thought it was safe to leave her wand right there?

She waited until she heard the shouting start, and then she left the room and hexed everybody in between her and her boys. "Gentlemen!" she called, and watched as they both grinned, wild and bloodthirsty. Together they wiped the floor with these dark idiots, and when they were done, Hermione took great pleasure in lecturing the idiots on all of their mistakes.

"'Mione, don't you think you maybe shouldn't be giving them tips, in case they get the chance to try this again?" Ron asked worriedly.

Hermione glowered at him. "Perhaps these idiots will spread the words, and the next ones who try to kidnap me won't make the same exact mistakes their predecessors did. You know, like the ones before this. I'm getting bored with all these kidnapping attempts, anyway. I'd really like it if they would try something new."

"Yes, but if they learn something new, we might have trouble getting you back next time," Harry pointed out, his brow furrowing in concern.

Hermione's grin was reassuring as she said, "I have all the faith in the world that the two of you would track me down no matter where they took me, or how they did it."

That put an end to their protests, and she happily returned to her critique of her captors' techniques.


	8. The Stone

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Dub-con? Maybe?

Pairings: Harry/Draco

The Stone

The world was fading around Harry, and that was okay. The world was fading out, and with it went all of his troubles, all of his cares, all of his concerns. It was wonderful. He was drifting on a sea of wonder and joy and happiness, the sort of pleasure he hadn't felt… ever. He had no cares. He had no concerns. He was truly, honestly, really free.

He shivered and pulled away from the stone. It was a horrible thing, and Draco was there waiting for him when he let go. "It's Dark," he confirmed, his voice shaking. He could see how wonderful it felt, could easily understand why people grew addicted to it. It felt.. .it felt like a slice of heaven.

"You okay?" his partner asked, his voice warm and gentle in Harry's ear.

"I'm good. Really," Harry said, and relaxed as the stone was bagged by one of the trainees. The raid had gone relatively easily, at least, until they'd gotten to this room. It was then that they'd learned where this particular idiot had gotten all of his money and power. People would probably sign over everything they had to get just another second with this stone. It was disgusting.

Harry hated how much he wanted to touch it again and so, when the others left the room, he turned and buried his head in Draco's neck. "It was wonderful," he whispered to Draco, even as he relaxed in his hold.

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, and gently rubbed at his back. "I'm sure it was. I've heard stories." He pulled away, then, and Harry felt the real world fading back in. "We need to get a move on. We have paperwork to do."

It didn't occur to him until later, much later, that the effects of the stone were painfully similar to what he felt whenever he was around Draco. And Draco did use that incredibly peculiar cologne… He dismissed it. It didn't matter.


	9. Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: None.

Faith

Everybody said to keep the faith. They said that help was coming. They said that there were still people out there, fighting the good fight. That was what the radio said, anyway. Potter Watch, it was called, and she tried not to tune into it but she just couldn't help herself. Help was on the way, the radio said. The fight wasn't over. People were still working to end this.

She didn't believe it. She couldn't make herself stop believing it. The war was terrible. It had been terrible for so very long. She was used to terrible things happening. Muggle borns like herself didn't exactly have a lot of choices out of Hogwarts, and it wasn't like she could just pop back into the Muggle world without any kind of real education. She'd emerged from Hogwarts and found herself quite stuck. And then this war had started, and she knew, she just knew, that she would die during this war.

To her surprise, though, nobody ever came for her. Maybe because she wasn't very important. She was just a lowly shop clerk. Why would the Death Eaters want to bother with her? And she'd learned quickly. Oh, had she learned. It was easier to deal with the pureblooded customers if they thought you were at least a halfblood, so she'd done everything in her power to present herself as such. So maybe that was why they weren't coming for her. They didn't realize that she was Muggle-born. And that was okay. She wasn't about to stand up and point herself out the squads that came through the Alley, still hunting them.

Hunting Potter. A child. The child who, if the radio was to be believed, was going to save them all. she thought that was a little ridiculous. She'd been raised not to believe everything she heard, everything she read. Question everything, her Mum had said. It was that attitude which had gotten her into Ravenclaw in the first place. And to her, it seemed ridiculous that the whole world was relying on a child to get them out of this mess.

She was of the opinion that the rest of the world should be trying to do something. Something other than sitting around in their living rooms listening to radio programs and hoping that somebody would do something. But she was powerless. She was nobody. She couldn't do anything.

So she sat in her living room, huddled under a blanket, sipping at hot chocolate, and wondered if little Harry Potter and his friends had hot chocolate where they were. They probably didn't. She was so grateful for what they were trying to do.

Harry Potter would save them all, the radio said. She just had to have a little bit of faith.


End file.
